Page 8 of Dirty Ruck (Ruck Boys #5)

Chapter Eight

Chelsea

Doctor Stuart was tending to a player, helped by one of the physical therapists, leaving me to walk up to the infirmary alone. The stadium was buzzing with people, so I wasn't truly alone until I stepped inside.

Wherever Otis Skinner was, he wasn't in the infirmary, much to my relief. He spoke to me respectfully these days, but at the same time, often put me on edge. I suspected I did the same to him, but his facade was always cool and calm. Polite but still a mask.

I placed aside the kit I’d carried down to the field in case of emergencies, and opened the laptop to update the records on tonight's game. We'd had a few grazes and scrapes, but nothing too serious. No broken bones, no suspected concussions. Ramsey's knee was holding up.

All of that was good news, but this felt like the calm before the storm.

Everything since Sadie was shot felt like that.

Moving into the new house kept us busy and my mind off things, but the sense of impending…

something was there. Doom, or at least a reckoning.

The possibility of someone coming after us again. Something .

I felt like a fly right in the middle of a spider's web, waiting for the arachnid to come and strike. I couldn’t even struggle. All I could do was hang on as best I could.

Fingers dancing over the keyboard, I entered the last of the details and saved the file. I was closing the laptop when the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor outside.

My pulse immediately ratcheted up. Sweat sprang up on my palms and under my arms.

Don’t be silly , I told myself. People passed by all the time. This was a busy stadium, even at night, when people moved around cleaning.

In the back of my mind, I realised no one had passed for the last ten or twenty minutes. No one stopped in. The other doctors hadn't appeared.

I was alone.

I reached for the closest object to defend myself with. The laptop. As weapons went, it wasn't much, but it was all I had for the moment. I inched around towards the treatment room. I could lock myself in there and call for help.

If this was a horror movie, I'd do something stupid like call out ‘who's there?’ Since it wasn't, and my life might depend on being careful and quiet, I pressed my lips together instead.

I reached around behind me with one hand, searching for the door frame, while stepping back, bit by bit. I waved my fingers back and forth. Where was it? I wasn't that far away from the doorway. Was I?

Finally, the back of my hand connected and I gripped the door frame.

My eyes on the infirmary door, I guided myself backwards, hoping whoever was approaching didn't hear the click of my heels on the floor. I moved as silently as I could but they sounded painfully loud. My heartbeat was just as deafening, thundering through my ears.

I passed the threshold into the treatment room and reached for the door handle. If I could get it closed, and duck out of sight of the small window…

The footsteps were getting heavier and quicker, whoever it was was moving faster now, as if they were in a hurry. They might pass straight on by.

My instincts told me otherwise. They were coming here.

My mouth was dry, but I forced myself to swallow.

You've got this , I told myself. You'll be okay. You know how to look after yourself. You're Doctor Chelsea fucking Miller, remember?

I held onto the laptop tighter, raising it as the footsteps neared.

Get the door closed, I told myself. I stepped around behind it and pushed it shut, still keeping my gaze on the doorway.

They were close now, so close I could?—

"Chelsea?"

I almost threw the laptop and slammed the door before I registered it was Dallas standing in the doorway.

"Holy shit." I sagged, almost dropping the laptop on the floor. "You scared me."

"Yeah." He stepped in towards me, hands out in front of him. "I can see that. Were you going to throw that at me?" He pointed to the computer in my hand. "I know I like it a little rough sometimes, but I've never thought of involving technology in that way before."

I managed a watery smile. "I thought you were someone else." I stepped out of the treatment room and placed the laptop on the closest desk.

He frowned. "Why are you alone? You're not supposed to be alone."

"I'm not alone now," I pointed out.

"But you were." He reached for me, pulling me into his arms. "You should have stayed downstairs and waited for one of us."

"I have a job to do," I said defensively. After a moment, I added, "There's usually someone else in here after a game."

"There wasn't," he said. "What if I was here to do something bad to you?"

I wanted to lessen the tension, so I smiled. "Aren't you? Isn't that why you came up here?"

He raised one eyebrow at me, fully aware I was pretending to misunderstand. "Yes. Lucky for both of us I got here before someone bad. But you were alone and that's not okay. I'm going to have to punish you for that."

"Promise?" I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

"Promise." He lowered his mouth to mine.

He never kissed me tentatively, and he didn't now. Rather, he kissed me like he wanted to devour me. Like if he didn't kiss me, he'd run out of oxygen and expire on the spot.

I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much passion and intensity. A minute ago I thought I might die, and now I was determined to live as hard as I could. Not wasting a moment.

I pulled him back to the treatment room with me. He kicked the door shut behind us. I dragged him down to the floor where we wouldn't be seen and yanked down his track pants before wrapping my mouth around his cock.

He groaned. "Fuck yeah, your mouth is so perfect. So fucking good." He closed his eyes and bucked, fucking my mouth like he'd never come before. "Chelsea…"

I cupped his balls and caressed them while sucking harder.

I loved the way he groaned and writhed with every swirl of my tongue around his head.

With every thrust. He made me feel powerful, in control.

Everything he was feeling right now, was because of me.

Because of my mouth and my hand. Because I was determined to make him feel good and give him what he needed. Just the way he needed it.

He shook his head, trying to hold himself back, but his balls clenched and and let himself go, spilling his release into my mouth. He grunted with a combination of pleasure and frustration at being done already. After a moment, he shook it off and pulled himself away from me.

He flipped me over onto my stomach on the cool tiles and shoved up my skirt before yanking my panties aside. Holding nothing back, he slapped my ass hard enough to sting.

I cried out with pain, but also perfect pleasure. I wanted more, lots more.

He gave me more. Slapping my cheek several times before switching to the other one.

“Don't. Be. Alone. Again," he said with each slap. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I hear you," I said. "Oh God, Dallas." I would happily have let him slap me a whole bunch more times, but then he was rolling me onto my back, shoving my legs apart and ramming his already-hard-again cock straight into me.

As relentlessly as he smacked me, he drew out of me and slammed back in, over and over until I was almost ready to beg him to stop. At the same time, I wanted to beg him to fuck me harder.

"Tell me," he said.

"I won't be alone again," I panted. "I deserve punishment. So much punishment."

"Yes, you do," he said, driving in harder. "You deserve all of this. You're going to get more when we get home. When I tell the others, they're going to punish you too."

"Yes, please," I said breathlessly. "I'm going to come."

"Only if I let you," he said, sounding like Storm.

I groaned. "Please let me. I can't hold myself back."

He grabbed a fistful of my hair. "You will if I tell you to."

He was absolutely glorious like this. Dominant and possessive. Hot as hell.

"I won't," I said. "Not until you tell me to." Even if I burst in the process.

He leaned down and kissed me roughly before letting my hair go and thrusting into me. "Come with me," he insisted. "Right now."

Right on cue, I came, my pussy clenching around him, muscles milking him as he came too, deep inside me, his thrusts still fast and desperate.

In that moment I felt fused together with him, lost in mutual pleasure and a distant universe. The world melted away and was gone for at least a minute or two. Until we finally sagged down together on the tiles, trying to catch our breath.

"You're everything," he whispered. "But I am going to tell the others."

"I didn't expect anything less," I said. I was looking forward to it.